


Peace Is Finally An Option

by Gerec



Category: Dark Phoenix - Fandom, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: M/M, Spoilers, post-Dark Phoenix
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-04-24 17:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19177594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: Charles' heart is broken from the loss of both Raven and Jean; his future is unknown to him, for the first time in over twenty years.Erik knows what it's like to live surrounded by people and be utterly alone; to achieve his life's goal and still feel like he's missing a limb.Maybe now, thirty years after their fateful meeting, peace can finally be an option.





	1. The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> This starts out a bit angsty, but leaves us with Erik and Charles happily ever after...

The aftermath at least is a familiar thing, as Charles wades through the wreckage that’s left behind, the task falling on his shoulders once again to deal with the humans and get his people home. It was Charles after all, who secured their rescue all those years ago in Cuba, controlling the minds of the soldiers that swarmed them on that sandy beach. Charles, who gently nudged the President and his men to be grateful to Raven – and to think better of all mutants – when they had only narrowly escaped death at Erik’s hands in Washington D.C.  And it was Charles who secured Erik’s pardon after Cairo, smoothly reshaping the narrative of En Sabah Nur’s rise and fall, working tirelessly to turn fear into relief and anger into gratitude.

It must be Charles again who sets forth the story of an other-worldly invasion, thwarted by the bravery of the X-Men, losing two of their own in the process. There are promises to revisit the Mutant Containment Unit, and an attempt to re-engage by a contrite, if not truly apologetic President; all of it as hollow now as the promises have ever been, though Charles will go along with it as he has before, to keep the School open and his people safe and free.

It’s the least he can do; the only thing he _can_ do, to keep the nightmares away.

But he dreams about her, about them both, the third night after he returns to the Mansion. Raven, her smile genuine and warm as they stroll arm in arm down narrow Oxford streets, just the two of them against the world. Raven, her eyes full of wonder and gratitude, when Charles had first promised her a home, and offered to be her family.

Raven, who resented him only slightly less than she loved him, who died thinking the worst of him, rejecting both his good intentions and his life’s work.

And then there’s Jean.

It gets worse day by day and hour by hour, after the service, and then after the School returns to some semblance of normalcy. He sees her everywhere he turns; a glimpse of red hair out of the corner of his eye, nine years old and pleading for yet another game of hide-and-seek. He hears the echo of her whispers, spoken mind to mind, as she grows older, and learns to use her telepathy to communicate under Charles’ gentle coaching. A Jean who holds his hand when he’s had a grueling day, exhausted by the strain of too many fake smiles and endless assurances, that mutants – like humans – aren’t inherently dangerous, and don’t need to be contained.

If he’s being honest – and he can with himself, as he can’t be with any other – Charles has been losing Raven by inches for years beyond years, her death merely the final step in a slow and steady divide that’s left them virtual strangers living under the same roof. He loves her the way he loves the mother he barely remembers; a love full of heartbreak and regret, and a desperate longing for understanding he would never be given. It’s a pain dulled by time and the acceptance that there are things even he can never change, allowing him at least the slimmest semblance of readiness to handle the grief of her passing.

It’s nothing like the sudden and unexpected shock of losing Jean.

In contrast Charles is plunging off a tall cliff into deep water, plummeting into such depths of agony as to leave him breathless from the pain. She is the daughter of his heart, the only one who sees the world in the same way, through the lens of a power that sets them apart even from others of their own kind. Charles’ love for her is immense and immeasurable; for the girl she was and the woman she’s become, the one meant to take up the legacy he would eventually leave behind.

And he’s failed her, as thoroughly as her own biological father did, when he _swore_ he would do better this time.   

He leaves the School three weeks later, and doesn’t look back.


	2. The Aftermath II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik wants to help Charles deal with the pain. Charles isn't ready for it...at least not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes we're getting to Paris truly I swear lol.

The explosion eventually dissipates from the night sky, leaving nothing but an eerie quiet in its wake.

From across the rubble Charles sits, shock etched on the tired lines of his face, too soon for the raw emotion to be hidden behind his usual façade. The others scramble instinctively towards Summers who is sprawled on the ground, inconsolable as he calls out for Jean, over and over, screaming her name.

A remembrance of old hurt surfaces unbidden; Erik knows this far too intimately, what it’s like to lose a daughter. To lose a wife. There are no words to make it better and no balm to sooth the grief; there’s only anger, and guilt, and so much gut wrenching heartache.

“Are you hurt?”

Charles stares, uncomprehending, as Erik crouches beside him and checks for signs of obvious injury. His relief morphs to worry when Charles barely acknowledges him, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. There’s not a whisper of emotion to be gleaned from the air around him, even at such close proximity and with Erik clasping his elbow; Charles has turned his telepathy inwards, reigning in the maelstrom of his anguish so he doesn’t drown everyone in his path.

“Charles?” Erik prods softly, when he doesn’t get an answer. “Charles, what can I do?”

A shiver wracks Charles’ body and a silent gasp falls from his lips, as though he’s resurfacing from deep water at Erik’s gentle urging. There’s no anger there when their gazes meet, and none of the usual recrimination; Charles simply stares back at him for long moments like Erik is a total stranger.

Then he scrubs his face with both hands and shakes his head.

_You’ve done enough._

It’s barely a rebuke, delivered with none of the biting hurt that used to color Charles’ accusations, surprising Erik enough to give him pause and not react to the jab aimed his way. Perhaps it’s because Charles hoped, but never really expected to change Erik’s mind about Jean…

Perhaps his ire is directed at another, closer target; at the person who was supposed to save her, save them _all_ , no matter how often he fails or how much it invariably costs him.

Charles flinches, pulling his arm out of Erik’s grasp.

 _I could have saved her. I got through to her, Erik. If you had just_ listened _to me, given me more time to try and--_

“She killed Raven,” he says, “she could have killed you too.”

“It would have been worth it,” Charles whispers, “to bring her back. Don’t you see, that I would have traded my life for hers in a heartbeat? She’s my—” He stops, and takes a shuddering breath. “It would have been worth it.”

“Not to me.”

Charles’ whole body stiffens, and Erik knows right away that his concern is being mistaken for callous indifference; that Charles really _doesn’t_ understand why Erik risked his life to try and stop Jean. It’s not just about avenging Raven’s death, no matter what he told Hank or let the man believe; it’s about protecting what little he has left in the world, and keeping the last of his family safe.

But it hardly matters, his intentions, when Charles never wants what he has to offer.

He waits patiently, for whatever harsh words are sure to come his way; for Charles to lash out in his grief against the only person equipped to bear it unfiltered. It’s the only solace he has to offer, to give Charles an outlet for the pain, just as Charles once tried to do for Erik when his own world had ended.

He watches as the myriad emotions cycle across Charles’ face, from indignation to frustration and then pain and so much anger, before he lets out a shuddering breath and all that’s left is weary resignation.

“You should go before more of them come, the police, the MCU—”

“We need to get you home. You’re in no shape to deal with the humans and their—”

“Erik,” Charles snaps, “I’m not going to let them use this as an excuse to shut down my School and arrest my teachers. I can’t have you here right now making things worse. Go home to Genosha. Be with your people. Let me handle this…please.”

And though the rejection stings it’s certainly understandable, given how Erik himself had shut down Charles’ overture too soon after losing Magda and Nina. He hopes that someone will be there to catch Charles when he inevitably falls; wishes he could do more than simply walk away again, and leave him behind.

“Goodbye, Charles,” he says, and swallows the impulse to say more, willing Charles to look at him even as he turns away. And then he’s soaring, up, up, up into the empty night sky, watching McCoy wrap an arm around Charles as he quietly floats away.


End file.
